How It Ends
by water4willows
Summary: Sam and Dean each said yes. What happens at the end when the invading forces leave and don't pick up the pieces? T for some slight language. WARNING: DEATH FIC


_Author's Note: I wrote this story back when Season 5 was airing and we didn't know if Sam and Dean were going to say Yes or No to Lucifer and Michael. I wanted to explore how the series would end if they each said yes and the epic battle went down._

_Disclaimer: As always, I don't own the boys but I sure like to make them suffer._

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**How It Ends**

The angel left a space after he had disappeared. When the world came crashing back and his unused senses were accosted by everything around him, Dean could feel the space. It was noticeable because its oppressive hold over his soul was gone and the place ached a bit, but Dean was Dean again. His legs collapsed beneath him and he lay panting on the floor. The occupation of the angel in his body had given him a strength he'd never expected and now its void left him weak and merely human once more. There was no supernatural power left to keep his insides in, to staunch the flow of blood from the gun shot wound in his abdomen. It didn't really hurt yet, just throbbed in time with his heart beats.

Dean wasn't sure how long he laid there but a noise from close by caught his attention. Sammy's body lay a few feet behind him and a soft gurgling was coming from his prone figure. With excruciating pain, Dean dragged himself across the cold and coarse concrete to where his fallen brother lay.

"Sammy?" His voice was his own again, though gravely and hoarse. His brother was on his side, facing away from Dean. His breath was shallow and fast and Dean rolled him as gently as possible. Sam's eyes were closed; congealed blood clung to the side of his face from a fracture in his skull and blood pooled at the site of the sword impaling his body. Sam had, at one time, been trying to extricate the metal from his body and given up. Dean manipulated himself to get in a sitting position, removed the sword the rest of the way from his brother's side and threw it as far as he could away from the pair of them. It clanked loudly and echoed around the enclosed space. He collected his brother head in his lap and put a hand to the wound in his side for pressure, to try and slow the flow of blood.

"Sammy, can you hear me?" Sam made a noise that sounded like a groan but did not open his eyes. Dean used his free hand to brush the hair off Sam's face and out of the blood. Still his brother did not stir.

"Cas?" he tried. "Michael?" Their names echoed off the concrete walls but no angles appeared. He knew they wouldn't come, that his efforts were futile. Once their epic battle was over, the Angels would once again disappear into the heavens, never to be seen again until they got it in their heads to start another apocalypse. It was just what he expected. After all Dean and Sam had sacrificed for the sake of those sons of bitches, yet they were still left for dead. Battered and broken. Sam sighed in his arms and Dean's thoughts drifted through the last few minutes of battle.

Angels fought demons. Sometimes the angel would win, sometimes the demon and it was chaotic. Utterly chaotic, and in the midst of it all Michael and Lucifer had used their "meat suits" to clobber the crap out of each other. And as Lucifer lay dying from being impaled by Michael's sword, the angel looking over him with the smug look of victory on his angelic face, Lucifer had found the gun Sam always carried on him, where ever they went. The one such a part of him that he hadn't even thought to put it away before meeting and accepting Lucifer into himself. Lucifer fired one shot into Michael's belly, Dean's belly, then fell silent and was defeated. Michael abandoned Dean then, letting him collapse to the floor and die without lifting a finger to help. And now here he sat, holding his dying brother's head in his lap and fighting back tears. It just wasn't fair.

Sam stirred again and this time Dean found his eyes open.

"Sammy, is that you?" he asked, two tears tracking down his face.

Sam managed a weak nod. "…s'gone Dean, s'gone."

"That's good, buddy,"

"You win, Dn?"

"Angels won, Sammy."

"Mmmph," he closed his eyes again and his brow furrowed. "It hurts."

"I know, Sammy, It'll be over soon." And Dean knew he was telling his brother the truth. Sam would die here in his arms and Dean would be right behind. The Angels would not find them in Heaven and restore them to life this time. They were gone now, put away like toy soldiers after the epic battle in the play room to be forgotten for a millennia until their presence was required once more. No, Dean and Sam Winchester would die here and their story would end.

Sam's chest was rising and falling at an alarming rate, each rattled and wet breath seemed to be agony for the young hunter. His hand clutched at Dean's jacket lapel.

"You look for me in Heaven, ok?" His eyes were open again but seemed unable to focus on Dean.

"Of course I will, Sammy. Of course I will," Dean barely got the words out, the sobs in his chest threatened to break forth any time now and render him dumb with anger and grief. "You know I will. Then we'll go find Mom and Dad and we'll be a family again. Would you like that, Sam?"

Sam nodded weakly. Things seemed to be slowing down. The rise and fall of Sam's chest was slowing. His hand loosened from the front of Dean's shirt and slipped back down to his side. His eyes wandered away and he no longer saw Dean.

"Sam?" Dean whispered, leaning close to his little brother, ignoring the pain in his stomach. His tears dripped onto his brother's face. "Sam?" the name choked in his throat, hitched in his side and in the silence of a moment as Sam slipped away.

Dean wasn't sure where it came from, where the strength was pulled from, but he let out a bellow that shook the very air around him. "SAM!" he screamed into the silence with all the anger and rage he could muster then collapsed on his brother in grief. The sobs rocked his battered frame but he ignored the pain. He held his brother close, crying into the denim of Sam's jacket, letting the sadness of the years pour out of him like rain. Put him in a cloud over a field and you would eat for a year.

Dean cried till he could cry no more and while his tears slowly dried into hitched breaths and he realized the pain was gone. His mind was foggy and a tiredness that he'd never felt in his life, stole over him. Dean set Sammy's body carefully back down on the floor and curled up into himself, one hand out and clutching his brother's. The room was darkening and black spots crept into Dean's vision. He was frightened at first, but then relaxed into the gathering blackness. "See you in heaven, Sammy, he managed before the blackness took him and Dean was lost to the world. The time of the Winchesters was over.


End file.
